Those Three Not So Little Words
by The Silver Phoenix
Summary: A rare night off for the Titans sees Robin and Starfire enjoying a quiet movie night by themselves. She takes the opportunity to think about how much she loves him. Robin/Starfire


**A/N- **Finally, another fanfic. I didn't intend to be on hiatus for so long, but schoolwork kept getting in the way (argh!) and I'm sure you all know how _that _feels. Anyway, since I haven't written any fanfiction for the last eight months or so, I might be a little rusty. Don't hate me. Please.

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**Those Three (Not-So-)Little Words**

By **The Silver Phoenix**

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****Summary: **A rare night off for the Titans sees Robin and Starfire enjoying a quiet movie night by themselves. She takes the opportunity to think about how much she loves him. 

**Disclaimer: **I _still _don't own the Teen Titans. Some things never change, eh?

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They've been going steady for a while now, but Starfire can't even remember the last time she spent some time with Robin, alone, without interruptions from their team-mates or the numerous villains of Jump City. The two had barely enjoyed any close contact in the past month to prove that they were now more than just friends, other than holding hands, or stealing a few chaste kisses in the short moments before parting their ways as they said goodnight. As Robin had jokingly mentioned, it was almost as if the alarm in the Ops Room was set to go off every time they were within two inches of each other. He hadn't sounded amused, though. 

So, the Starfire thought, this rare, uninterrupted evening should be ultra-special. The other Titans had all conveniently decided to go to bed early—although neither she nor Robin missed the knowing looks exchanged between Cyborg, Raven and Beast Boy—leaving just the two of them. Alone. Starfire knows she should be concentrating on the movie like her boyfriend is, but all she can think about is how she loves being with him. She no longer minds sitting through action flicks for the nineteenth time, as long as his arm is draped over her shoulder, and she's snuggling as close to him as possible, so close that she can feel his heart beating in rhythm with hers, so close that she can breathe in his scent.

She loves the smell of his skin. Sweat-drenched in the heat of battle, he smells of bravery, a virtue highly valued by her people. He's always there to catch her when she falls, and when he does, holding her in his arms for slightly longer than necessary, he smells of safety. She manages to catch a whiff of his cologne now, mingled with the natural scent of his skin, and she breathes it in deeply, because it's all him, it's all Robin.

She loves his hair, that unruly mop of jet-black hair kept that no amount of hair gel will keep in place. She loves how his hair is dishevelled when he wakes up in the morning, but within minutes he's spiked it up perfectly again. She loves it when they're standing in the rain, soaking wet, and his hair lies flat, falling into his masked eyes. Most of all, she loves getting her fingers tangled up in it, playfully tousling the ebony locks as they engage in a passionate kiss.

She loves his mouth, curved upwards into a smile or forming words of encouragement to his team-mates. But his most brilliant smiles are reserved for her eyes only, his whispered words of love for her ears only. She adores those perfect shell-pink lips, which torturously tease her skin with sweet, soft kisses. And when his lips capture hers, her heart flutters with excitement so that she forgets everything and everyone else—there's just him and her and they're kissing, and everything is so wonderful she can barely keep herself from floating off the ground.

She loves the touch of his hands. Sometimes they pass each other in the hallway, exchanging a shy glance, their fingers just brushing together. Of course, the hallway is wide enough for both of them to walk a comfortable distance apart without touching, but she enjoys the electrifying effect of the close contact, feeling the shivers running up her spine and the blood rushing to her cheeks. She loves how his thumb traces little circles on her bare skin; how his hand caresses her tearstained cheek, gently wiping away her tears; and how his fingers play with her hair, tucking away a stray ruby-coloured strand behind her ear. She loves the feel of his hand clasping hers, her small, slender fingers entwining with his strong ones. It's gentle but reassuring, telling her without words that everything will be all right, as long as they're together.

She hates to admit it, but she has even grown to love his mask, that strip of black-rimmed white cloth concealing the windows to his soul. It adds a sense of mystery to his already enigmatic character, and she likes that, without quite knowing why. And anyway, his mask nearly always gets knocked aside during their heated make-out sessions, so it hardly matters any more.

Because most of all, she loves his eyes, those elusive, hidden cerulean eyes he will only permit her to see. She can drown in them for a lifetime... and yes, she has fantasies of spending the rest of her life with him. Those eyes are her favourite of all his handsome features, and they intrigue and fascinate her like no other. She suspects the precise shade of blue varies with the emotions that flicker across his face. From a dark indigo clouded with fear and doubt, to sapphire tears, to a tempestuous midnight blue, to bright azure sparkling with love and joy… and countless other blues in between. He tries to suppress his emotions—and being brought up by a stoic seems to help—but his eyes betray him: they are an exact mirror of his emotions, but they also hold evidence of the terrible pain he has endured over the years. Occasionally, he'll mention his past; she doesn't ask for the details, but listens attentively, understandingly, when he's prepared to tell her.

She loves the sound of his voice, always so full of emotion. Now encouraging, critical of errors, generous with deserving praise… suddenly, light and lively, ringing with laughter… then, gentle and understanding, as he explains the customs of the strange planet Earth to her… He tells her his deepest secrets, secrets he had not entrusted to the other Titans, and sometimes a slip of the tongue reveals his heart's unspoken desires.

In return, she shares the secrets of her own past with him. Though she would have no second thoughts about placing her life in the hands of any of the other Titans, there is an ever deeper degree of trust between herself and Robin, strengthened by the bonds of their enduring friendship. For it is only him and him alone that she trusts unconditionally.

He's always been kind to her, for as long as they've been friends. She is still amazed by the fact that he had been willing to accept her as his friend—and his best friend, no less—after she had destroyed half the city the very first time they'd met. Kind, forgiving and patient, it was always him she had turned to in times of need, during the early days of their blossoming friendship. He was always willing to listen to her troubles, to help solve her problems. He was always there for her, and he's still here for her now, and she is truly grateful for that.

So she tries, in return, to be there for _him _when he needs her: the times when he sheds invisible tears for unspoken sorrows, the times when he's trapped within his nightmares, and the ghosts of his past return to haunt him, filling his eyes with the image of two figures falling from a highwire... She understands what it feels like, to be a prisoner within your own mind, shackled by chains of suffering to a terrible past, a victim of your own memory. In times like those, they sit together in silence, their hands just touching, not speaking but simply enjoying each other's company.

When he gets "uber-obsessive", though, as Beast Boy and Cyborg put it, it's a whole different story. She hates to see him so troubled, and she hates to feel helpless. She doesn't like being alone, so she can't understand why he would lock himself up in his room to ponder over things when five brains would be so much better than one. He tells her he's only trying to protect her, but she points out that they are a team, therefore they take care of each other. After all, isn't friendship about being there for each other in times of need? And they _are_ friends, are they not?

She thinks that she quite likes his possessiveness of her. He doesn't treat her like a prize, something that he's won or conquered. In addition to now being his girlfriend, she's still his best friend and he makes sure she never forgets that. But her darling boyfriend can get a bit jealous sometimes, and he's not too kind to anyone who dares to wolf-whistle or pass suggestive comments at her. She doesn't blame him though; as a certain blonde named Kitten had previously experienced, the Tamaranian princess can get jealous too. _Very _jealous. But when Robin gets all possessive of her, he _is_ kind of cute… And Starfire certainly can't say she objects to him kissing her in public just to prove that they're together.

In fact, she thought, she just loves _him_. Perhaps not _all_ of him; he has his flaws, she admits, but so does she. But she thinks that she probably loves some of his faults too. She has learned to embrace all of him, and as imperfect as he may be, she wouldn't change any part of him. Because it's an imperfect Robin that Starfire has come to love, to adore.

"Star?" His voice, tender and loving as ever, brings her back to the present. Sitting up properly, she realises with a start that the movie credits are already rolling across the screen, the theme song playing in the background. Robin looked slightly embarrassed, and he began apologetically, "Sorry, I didn't realise we'd watched this one _that _many times. Why don't we—"

But Starfire merely smiled, and her glowing emerald eyes met Robin's cerulean blue ones. Without warning, she leaned forward, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him fully and passionately on the lips. The bemused Boy Wonder wondered for a brief moment what he had done to deserve his girlfriend's affection, before responding to the kiss, his arm snaking around her waist. Before long, their hands were tangled in each other's hair, their tongues performing an intimate dance, and Robin had laid her down on the couch so that he was on top, and her skirt was riding up on her thigh, and—

And then they broke apart for air. The Boy Wonder now looked pleased but _still_ utterly bewildered, poor boy. Starfire noted that his hair was now completely messy, just the way she liked it, and his azure eyes were dark with pleasure, and she loved that colour ever so much. Her own appearance was probably just as dishevelled, and yet she couldn't care less. And this time, as she said those three little words, she finally realised what they were not-so-little after all, because she meant them with every fibre of her being, every ounce of her soul. Starfire grinned up at Robin, and she proclaimed,"I love you."

As if this was a good enough explanation for her impulsive behaviour, his bemused expression lightened slightly, and he answered in earnest, "I love you too." And that was the simple truth.

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A/N- **Review, review, review! Oh, and just for the record: I hate the ending too. It's so cheesy and cliché I'm sick of it. But I couldn't think of a better alternative, so there. :P 


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